The Tea Boy and the Coffee King
by Jessie Blackwood
Summary: A little AU which is almost crack, almost drabble. The Battle Butler and the Battlefield Medic find they have a lot in common.


**Disclaimer: Characters owned by Davies, Moffat, Gatiss and the BBC. I don't own any of it, except maybe the idea for the story, etc. etc. etc., no infringement of copyright intended, no money being made, etc, etc. Any resemblance to any persons living or dead is purely coincidental. **

**WARNING: Rated T for swearing, just erring on the side of caution. **

Okay so this is nearly a crack!fic and almost a drabble but not quite. It might go somewhere but for now it's complete. Reviews might determine otherwise though. This is a small AU (obviously) with John and Sherlock working for Torchwood.

The Battle Butler and the Battlefield Medic have more in common than first appears.

_**The Tea Boy and the Coffee King.**_

John Watson knows when to stay out of Sherlock's way by now and now is definitely one of those times. Sherlock is annoyed, bored and any moment now...

"Bored!" he declares, to no one in particular. A shot rings out and bits of tile chip and spray off the sign that reads TORCHWOOD across the tiles above the old couch. He empties the clip and very soon there is a smiley face centered around the 'wood', the 'eyes' are in the double O. There is a screech from Myfanwy and she takes refuge in her aerie at the unexpected noise. Sherlock watches her with his pale eyes, interest sparking in them. There had better not be another experiment brewing, John thinks. Ianto will kill the consulting detective if he messes with the dinosaur.

"Fucking hell, I nearly stabbed myself with a scalpel, you moronic twat!" Owen pokes his head out of the autopsy bay. "You're fucking insane... I can see why Kathy Swanson calls you Freak!"

"Hey!" The outraged shout echoes across the cavernous space and Jack is at his office door, gun drawn and glowering menacingly. Owen has seen that look before and beats a retreat, leaving Jack to fix Sherlock with a withering glare. It doesn't work. Sherlock's been on the business end of hundreds of Mycroft's withering looks and none of them have worked yet. "You're lucky I didn't shoot you!" Jack tries. "I thought we were being invaded. What the fuck are you doing?" Sherlock returns the look and Jack relaxes his stance but not his anger. "If you want to let off steam, we have a firing range for that!" Where Sherlock is concerned, he is out of his depth.

"Boring!" Sherlock snaps. "It's more fun up here."

Jack glares at him and retreats, glowering darkly. Sometimes, having the grandsons of Brigadier General Alastair Lethbridge-Stewart working for him is a burden he has to bear. Sherlock is a loose cannon and Mycroft is simply irritating, but it's not like he can sack them after all...

**0o0o0o0**

Ianto Jones knows when to stay out of Jack's way and now is definitely one of those times. Sherlock is enough to try anyone's patience and Jack is suffering. He takes his cue and goes to the kitchen to brew a soothing cup of his best blend, to find John Watson already there, kettle in hand.

"I...um...thought a cup of tea might work," John offers. "Sherlock likes tea. Calms him down. Not treading on your territory, I hope..." He squares his shoulders, a little bit of the military still evident in his stance and demeanor. Working for UNIT hasn't endeared him to Jack either but John is at least able to exercise some influence over their difficult recruit and so Jack tolerates his presence. Besides, he was on the Brig's personal staff for a while and that holds weight where Jack is concerned. He's also a good field medic and for once, Owen has found someone he can work with.

"The Captain likes my coffee," Ianto replies. "Calms him down too. I don't mind the invasion, unless you mess with my coffee machine. Nobody messes with my coffee machine. You can ask Owen what happened when he tried." John can imagine. Ianto is quiet, like him. Ianto is proficient with a gun, like him. It's always the quiet ones who are the more dangerous, after all.

The two men nod, in perfect accord. John puts the kettle on and Ianto wields the coffee machine with practiced ease. "I took the liberty of buying milk," John says. "I saw we were a bit low. It's the same at home. Sherlock's always using it up for his experiments." Ianto nods. Wisely, he doesn't ask and John doesn't elaborate. Ianto is used to keeping his mouth closed and anticipating what is needed. It's actually nice to find someone else who does the same.

When the coffee is brewed, John inhales appreciatively. "That smells amazing," he says. "You make coffee like Sherlock deduces - brilliantly." Ianto smiles.

"Thank you," he says, a little shyly, and slides a cup across the counter top toward John. The doctor's eyes widen.

"Thanks." He slides a cup of his tea the other way. Ianto smiles. They both take an experimental sip.

"Wow," John says.

"Amazing," Ianto offers. "I suggest you make Tosh her tea from now on. She'll love you for it."

"She will?" John's eagerness is obvious. He's liked the shy tech expert from the moment they shook hands. Ianto has noticed this of course, but far be it from him to act as matchmaker. His relationship history is nothing to shout about after all. Still, nothing wrong in giving things a push in the right direction.

"Yes, she will. Make her a cup. She likes very little milk and no sugar." John watches him go, carrying the tray.

**0o0o0o0**

Tosh comes up from the archives at a run, expecting a lock-down at the very least. She spies Ianto going into Jack's office with the coffee and wonders what happened. Everything must be okay. She could have sworn she heard shots though. She is surprised to see he hasn't left her customary teacup on her desk. She concedes that as she was in the archives, he probably didn't think she would be back before it went cold. She walks to her work station, seeing Sherlock stretched out on the couch with fingers steepled beneath his chin, apparently asleep. The wall above is pockmarked with bullet holes. She frowns, her delicate brows drawn together as she tries in vain to work out what happened.

"He got bored," says a voice at her elbow. "Shot the wall." John Watson is standing there, two cups of tea in his hands. "Oh, here you go. Made this for you," he says with a smile.

"The wall had it coming!" says a voice from the couch.

Tosh blinks and then drags her eyes from the couch back to the man who is still standing beside her. "Thank you," She answers, taking the tea. He pauses, waiting. Ah, he wants to know if it's alright. She takes a sip, expecting that she'll have to try to smile and tell him how nice it is even when it isn't. He has a puppy look in his eyes. She's too nice to tell him if it's awful but Ianto is the only one who can make tea the way she likes it. As the taste hits her tongue, her eyebrows rise. It's delicious. "Wow," she says. His smile lights up his face and he nods and carries the other cup to where Sherlock is reclining. He places the cup on the coffee table, near Sherlock's head.

"Thank you, John." Sherlock doesn't move, but the acknowledgement is nice.

"Where's my coffee?" Owen complains.

**0o0o0o0**

It's time to go home. Sherlock winds his scarf around his neck and John holds the long Bellstaff coat for him to put on. Jack holds his arms back and Ianto helps him on with his RAF greatcoat. John and Ianto catch each other's eyes and smile. What is it about these long coats? Every hero just has to have one.

Tosh studies John and Ianto as they prepare to leave. There are alike in so many ways, and polar opposites in others. Even their names are the same. Ianto is Welsh for John. They are both devoted to their men and from what she's seen, their men both take them somewhat for granted. Although John is showing interest in her, to which she finds she isn't averse. They are, after all, both good looking men. One is tall and dark, the other short and blond. Both are attentive to detail. Both make excellent beverages and anticipate others' needs. Owen got Ianto's nick name wrong though. John is much more suited to the title of Tea Boy. She allows herself a small satisfied smile and watches the Tea Boy and the Coffee King as they leave.


End file.
